Arkham Antics
by seditionary
Summary: Now inmates as well as lovers, the Joker and Batman bring a welcome distraction to Poison Ivy's boring morning, airing their personal business in the day room in front of the whole Arkham gang. Post-TDK, Heath's Joker, mature content.


_**A/N: First of all, many thanks and squeals of respect to **__**Alexandra-the-Great91 for not only inspiring me with her story, "Rec Room Debut", but also Beta-ing this story. She's an excellent writer, check her stuff out, you'll be glad you did.**_

_**Also, just to set the scene, Poison Ivy is an inmate in Arkham, along with several other familiar characters and she is telling us about a dull morning that took a far more interesting turn than she expected. Takes place post-Dark Knight, btw.**_

_**I do not own any of the Batman characters from any fandom. No money is made from the writing I do.**_

_**Batman/Joker slash, just so you know, including some rather naughty stuff.**_

_* * *_

_**Asylum Antics**_

_Poison Ivy's POV_

It was mid-morning and some of us were in the day room, bored as usual. The television was on, and of course the weak-minded among us sat around it, fascinated. I, too, would have been perfectly willing to let myself get swept away with the idiotic squawk-box if there had been anything decent showing, but the dull-witted fools protectively held the remote control hostage, fearful of losing the thread of the plot to a rerun of "MacGyver" or some such nonsense. Just as I thought I would return to my room and see if my Harley had awakened, the Joker strode in.

"Gooood morning, fellow inmates, how are we today? Anyone in the mood for a magic trick?" he bellowed. The Joker was allowed to go around with a full complement of cheap tricks from a child's magic kit, which he managed to parlay into some truly amazing sleights of hand. As much as I disliked him, I had to admit, he was quite the showman. In fact, I, myself, was almost tempted to join the group of demented fans eagerly gathering around him--Edward, Jonathan, Harvey, Jervis, among others, I was _that_ bored--but someone actually turned the television channel to a news station and I became distracted.

It was difficult to hear the broadcast over the Joker's flashy, Vegas-style repartee along with the appreciative ooh's and ahh's his handiwork engendered, and I cast an irritated look over my shoulder at the noisy little crowd, not that they paid any attention. But out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the newest member of our little nut-job family silently enter the room.

He was a big man, yet he moved with such grace and calm that it was easy not to notice him immediately. In fact, he actually had to clear his throat rather pointedly in order to attract the attention of a certain clown who was too taken with the sound of his own voice to notice the shift in the atmosphere of the room. Everyone else fell silent before the Joker finally looked up from his deck of cards to see the Batman standing a few yards away from him, his Arkham-issued white shirt and pants nicely off-set by the black hue of the cowl and cape he had been permitted to keep.

"Ah, ha ha ha, Batsy! Just in time for the show!" the Joker spoke quickly and glibly, but I could detect a note of unease in his high-pitched, nasal voice. I suddenly grasped that all was not well in the garden of Joker-land, and I immediately turned so I had the best view of the two of them, ready to fully enjoy whatever freakish fireworks might be in the offing. It was going to be good, I could tell by Batman's overly placid demeanor which was in direct juxtaposition to the Joker's increasingly antsy discomfiture.

"Come on, Bats, join the gang, I was just going to do a little card trick...." Joker entreated, holding the spread deck up like a sacrificial offering. His smile had gone from his usual obnoxious overriding confidence to a slightly weak, hopeful grin.

"No, thanks. I was more interested in discussing your other trick--the one where you disappear without permission," Batman rejoined. The large man now had the attention of the entire room, and an audible "Ooo" went through the group.

"Aw, come on, babe, you went back to sleep! How was I to know that you wanted me to stick around?" the Joker asked, clearly uncomfortable with the turn of events.

"Because I told you to," the man in the cape replied firmly, folding his arms over his chest.

"No, no, no, _no_, you said you'd see me later! _Now_ is later, right?" the Joker squirmed sheepishly in his chair, daring to break his gaze from the Bat to survey the rest of the group, looking for support. Everyone shrank into themselves slightly. No one wanted to be perceived as taking sides--there would be no winners in _that_ stand-off.

"You _knew_ what I meant, we've discussed this before. I don't like it when you go off without telling me. And, for that, you will have to be punished." The calm statement came off like a judge's proclamation and my eyes switched instantly to the Joker's painted face, as if I were watching a particularly tense tennis match.

"Uh...punished?" Joker asked, nervously clearing his throat. If he'd been allowed to wear a tie, he would be loosening it right now, Rodney Dangerfield-style. His tongue slipped in and out of his mouth a couple of times, and I felt a small thrill of excitement at the prospect of someone taking the little bastard down a peg.

"Yes. So you won't be tempted to misbehave in the future." Batman strode purposefully to his victim/lover and pulled him into a standing position with one powerful yank on his upper arm, forcing the cards to flutter to the floor like a flock of little birds.

"What...uh, what're ya gonna..._do_?" asked the Joker, trying gamely to laugh, but I for one very plainly could hear the worry in his voice.

"You'll see." Batman dragged the Joker over to the couch, and the few resident inmates sitting there quickly abandoned their seats, scattering a safe distance away so they could still enjoy the second act of the Joker's show.

The Bat stood with one hand firmly attached to the painted man's skinny arm, and with the other, he carefully untied the thin string holding up the Joker's white cotton pants. He gave a firm jerk, and the pants fell in a pool around the other's feet, bringing an appreciative round of catcalls from the inmates, both male and female, including myself. This was promising to be quite the event...

Batman sat on the couch, dragging the now-actively protesting and struggling clown down with him, arranging the slighter man over his lap, as easily as if he were a naughty young child.

"Bats, _no! _Not here, everyone'll see!" he wailed in acute embarrassment.

"That's the idea, Houdini, since you obviously don't listen to what I say when it's just the two of us. Perhaps having a few witnesses around will make a stronger impression."

The Bat proceeded to pull down the Joker's asylum-issued underwear, revealing a lovely, rather perfect, creamy white bottom that even _I _had to appreciate. After all, you don't have to be Italian to enjoy Michelangelo's "David". And I had about the best seat in the house, just the right angle to take in the action as it unfolded.

The Joker was desperate to get away now, struggling uselessly under his lover's grasp, not really having the slightest chance of escape, but still making it a bit difficult for the Batman to maintain his preferred position and get down to business.

"Stop it," the man about to dole out some discipline advised flatly. "You're just making it worse for yourself."

The Joker attempted to crane his neck around so that he could see the Bat's masked face, but he was being held too firmly to allow for such a move. Realizing that he had little hope of being able to physically avoid his comeuppance, he resorted to his second line of defense, snappy patter.

"_Please_, Bats! Come on, babe, you don't want to do this here! Let's go back to the room, and I'll make it up to ya! You know, I'll take care of any little thing you want, just the way you like it! You know me, baby, I aim to please!" He offered a lame little giggle, but his voice was strained, and he was quickly cut off when the Bat clamped a hand over his mouth.

"Shut. The. FUCK. _Up. _You're going to be punished, right here, right now, and I don't want to hear another word out of you, do you understand?" The crowd was now in full support of Batman and some encouraging comments, such as "That's right!" and "You go, Bats!" were popping up around the room.

"Shut up!" snarled the Joker viciously, as he surveyed the now fully-gathered audience from his ignominious position. "This is between him and me, and every one of you fuckers is going to _regret it _if you don't SHUT UP!"

"Enough," said Bats calmly. "If you will settle down, we'll get this over with that much quicker. Now, are you ready?" he asked in a silky voice.

"Oh...yeah. Go ahead." The Joker slumped listlessly against the heavily muscled thighs and sighed wearily in defeat. He obviously knew what was coming and had given up any hope of the Bat confining their little tug-of-war to the privacy of their shared room.

"All right, then. Remember, I'm doing this for your own good." The Bat pulled back his large hand, holding it in a flat position with his fingers together, just for a moment, building the tension. I saw the Joker screw his eyes shut, anticipating the blow he was unavoidably about to receive.

It came down with a sharp resounding "crack!", a hard, unforgiving wallop that I could see clearly left a bright red imprint of the Bat's big palm squarely in the middle of the smooth, pale skin of the sufferer's right buttock. He made no noise other than a swift inhalation of air, but I could see he had sucked in his bottom lip and had an expression of intense concentration on his face.

The next blow was on the other side, equally loud, leaving the same perfect imprint on that defenseless cheek. The Bat admired his handiwork, and then proceeded to administer a relentless paddling that left the Joker squirming uselessly on the big man's lap. At first, he tried to suppress his cries, whether of pain or pleasure--probably both, knowing him--but eventually was reduced to alternately giggling and whooping in what I took for real pain.

Both reactions seemed to spur the Bat to lay ever harsher open-handed whacks across his mate's round, bare buttocks, and as his punishment escalated, so did the obscene squirming of the Joker's hips, which apparently was focused very purposefully over the Batman's crotch. It suddenly occurred to me that the movements had become rather rhythmic, and I realized with revulsion that the Joker was actually getting sexually stimulated by the spanking. Typical. I wondered if anyone else had noticed.

We watched, utterly engrossed, until the Joker gave a deep, guttural grunt, then gasped, "Ok! Ok! I learned my lesson, lemme up! I'll be good, I promise, I promise!" He again attempted to look over his shoulder at his loving tormentor, hoping I suppose to get some clue as to whether his punishment was nearly over or just beginning. This time, Batman allowed him that leeway, and he gave the Joker a look with an upraised eyebrow that indicated he wasn't buying the clown's assurances with very much confidence.

"Oh, really? I seem to recall a similar statement you made the last time I had to do this. And yet, here we are again. Obviously, I was too soft on you then, but I won't make that mistake again." The Bat went back to his work, supplying the now smoldering red-hot buns with another series of severe smacks that had the Joker involuntarily jerking with pain. He was no longer able to stifle his cries, and let out a few choked wails, as he began to plead.

"Please, Bats! I swear, I'll be good, please! I'll _show_ you I can be good, just let me up!"

"You'll _show_ me?" Bats asked in surprise. Apparently, this possibility piqued his interest enough that he ceased the paddling, and allowed the Joker to hastily jackknife himself off his lap so that he was standing before him, his trousers in a wad at his feet, gingerly rubbing at the deep rose-colored blush of his well-spanked bottom in an attempt to soothe the sharp stinging sensations he was no doubt suffering. I took note of the rather gooey-looking wet spot gracing the fabric on the Batman's left thigh, and realized in disgust that, ever the showman, the damn Joker had had an orgasm. No wonder his dick was limp.

"Yeah. I'll _show _you. Right now. Here, in front of everybody." The Joker spoke rapidly, as if he were a junkie attempting to close a drug deal before the cops got wind of it.

Batman sat back and looked up at him thoughtfully.

"Well, that would be...different. All right. Let's see what you can...do."

The Joker nodded eagerly and dropped to his knees, not bothering to pull up his pants. He fumbled with Bat's trousers and freed an absolutely terrifying erection from them. I was, frankly, shocked. How the Joker was able to walk around normally, most of the time, I couldn't imagine, although this certainly answered the question of why he occasionally came to the mess hall limping so piteously.

I watched in genuine fascination as the Joker leaned forward and began giving the Batman a blow job, right there, in front of all of us. I almost couldn't bear to take my eyes off the sight, but just had to get a peek at everyone else's faces. The expressions were about equally divided between those who wished they were the Batman, and those who wished they were the Joker. I personally found the whole thing to be _extremely_ hot, and also wonderfully amusing. I would never ever be able to look at the Joker in the same way again.

For the second time, I congratulated myself on picking a really fine spot for watching the proceedings. I had a _very_ good view of the Bat's huge, purple-headed, thick-veined erection, quivering and straining as the Joker ran his lascivious tongue up and down it as his opening act. He followed with some serious sucking action, holding the base of the Bat's cock in his hand and confining his attention to the head and the first few, relatively innocuous, inches, bobbing his head up and down industriously.

After a few minutes of this activity, which seemed to only slightly serve to mollify his lover, the clown prepared himself for the big finish. He took a deep breath, and pulled himself a little more upright in order to position himself above his engorged target as he attempted to take the whole enchilada into his mouth and down his throat. I actually found myself feeling a bit alarmed for the poor guy, not that I knew exactly what he was setting himself up for, but I could imagine that it wasn't going to be very comfortable.

As I thought, the Joker pulled off, choking and gagging after the Bat's cock apparently collided sharply with the back of his throat. The gang let out a concerted "whoa..." of dismay, it seemed the crowd's mood was now in the Joker's court, applauding his efforts to get back into the Bat's good graces.

"Oh, please. I know you can do better than that," chided Bats in bored disapproval. "You usually do, anyway...." he smirked, winning an appreciative guffaw from the crowd.

The Joker looked up at him, his lips curled in a sneer of disgust.

"Just a little stage-fright, Batsy, I'm not used to doing this in front of an audience, you know."

Batman gave out a little chuckle of amusement.

"Well, that's surprising, but oh, well. Go ahead, take another run at it," he encouraged, slipping his hands behind his cowl and spreading his legs even wider, obviously enjoying his boyfriend's discomfort as much as we all were.

The Joker gamely went back to his efforts and I watched admiringly as the thick appendage gradually slipped further and further down the clown's throat, straining his red-painted lips to accommodate the girth of the thing. He managed to take it all the way down after pauses at the five, seven and nine inch-marks, and Bats quipped, "Now, there's a disappearing act I can appreciate," which caused a swell of laughter from the now-sweaty crowd.

The Joker pulled back and began to struggle to take it in again just as deeply, but this time, the Bat leaned forward and pulled him into his lap, squeezed him tightly, and kissed him tenderly. The Joker stared up at him, disbelieving, and meekly asked, "You're not mad at me anymore?" and Bats replied, "No, love, you proved you learned your lesson. All I ask is that you be a good boy for me and obey me, and we'll get along just fine." He kissed him again, and everyone in the room applauded enthusiastically. Some, I noticed, wiped away a tear.

Batman helped his lover regain his feet, pulling up and tying his pants for him, then he too stood, adjusted himself, and slipped his arm around the clown's thin shoulders.

"Come on, babe, let's go back to the room and I'll show you why I didn't want you to run off in the first place," I heard the Bat explain.

"Oh...Bats," the Joker sighed, happily resting his head with its mop of green-tinted hair on his lover's shoulder as he wrapped his arms around the vigilante's tapered waist.

"But...can we use a little more lube, this time?" he asked. "I'm still sore as hell from the fucking you gave me this morning..."

"Yes, my love, anything for you," Bats affectionately gave him a playful smack on his bottom, eliciting a sharp "Ow!", and I heard the big man say, "Oh, sorry, I forgot you were a little tender down there..." as they disappeared down the hall.

Everyone in the room let out a collective sigh of satisfaction, and just then my little Harley-girl came tripping in, a puzzled expression on her adorable face.

She settled cheerfully in my lap, and kissed me before asking, "What's with Bats and Joker? They didn't even say hello to me when I passed them in the hall..."

I smiled. I could hardly wait to tell Harley about the show.


End file.
